


Jeeves, Wooster, and the Educational Tour: Part 2 New Jersey

by hazeltea (madlovescience)



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlovescience/pseuds/hazeltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my part in the Livejournal community Indeedsir Educational Tour challenge. It is a round robin type story where Jeeves and Bertie travel the world. It can be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeeves, Wooster, and the Educational Tour: Part 2 New Jersey

“So, here it is from the other side.” I gestured to the island of Manhattan, leaning over the rail of the ferry. Jeeves and I had left New York on a productive note, crossing to Bedloe’s Island to take a gander at the Lady Liberty herself before continuing to the mainland of New Jersey. I had seen it from this side previously, while traveling with one of George’s shows, but a crisis of unspeakable proportions forced me to leave Jeeves behind. You’ll find that tale elsewhere in the Wooster archives, but the point is that I swore to myself that I’d never again endure such a long trip without Jeeves by my side. Without his assistance, I don’t know if I’m coming or going, and the Wooster heart aches for his company. Jeeves is just about the only person I’ve ever met that can stand said Wooster’s company for longer than a week at a time, and on long journeys, it’s dashed important to have someone like that at hand.

“A magnificent view, sir.” He confirmed.

“Next stop, Hoboken. Bally funny names these places have. Hoboken, Weehawken, Lackawanna….. I don’t suppose it has to do with those coves they call hoboes?”

“I fear not, sir. I have come to understand that a great number of the unusual names derive from the language of the Lenape people, whom inhabited the land previously. However, that in the case of Hoboken there is some dispute over the true origin of the name, as there is a Hoboken in Belgium, as well. The original Dutch settlers may have-“

“Yes, yes, I think that’s enough about the Dutch, Jeeves.“

“Very good, sir.”

“The Dutch are all fine and well if you need a windmill or two, but as far as naming cities, well. I fear that they just don’t have a knack for it.”

“Much as they fall short of the standard for ornamental silver, sir?” he replied, archly.

“Precisely, Jeeves. Precisely. I’ll hear no more of it.”

“Very good, sir.”

*******************

That evening, we ate together at a small Italian restaurant near the water. When I say restaurant, perhaps I’m being a bit generous in my description. If you are imagining bright silverware and starched linen napkins, you’d do well to cast that scene out of your mind. This was one of those charmingly rustic places, where the food is cooked and served by one extended family, and if you don’t wind up with a full place setting, not an unusual occurrence, it’s not frowned upon to improvise. Jeeves tells me that it is customary to eat spaghetti with a spoon, and demonstrated how neatly it could be managed. I don’t know how they came up with such an ingenious trick, but I suspect it was because someone was short of a knife at one point.

As I said, this is not the usual type of place I dine, so I was startled to hear someone call my name. It took me a moment to put a name to the face, but I recognized him as a chap I’d had many a bohemian drink with in Manhattan. “I say! Jimmy Corrigan, isn’t it?” I exclaimed.

“It is, Bertie, it is! I didn’t know you left the Island when you came overseas.” He smiled widely, and drew up a chair from an adjacent table.

“We’e just passing through. We intend to circle the globe before collapsing in an exhausted heap in old blighty.”

He chuckled, a bit sadly. “It must be nice.” He said, and changed the topic. “I say, Bertie, I haven’t seen you in at least a year. I’ve gotten married, you know. We’ve got a little place in Jersey City where my wife cooks Chinese food. You should take a drive over and have some.”

“Chinese food?” I asked, baffled. “That’s an odd business.”

“Well, that’s what she cooks. We just need to get the word out. People want something different, Bertie. People that don’t want to go to Chinatown to get it. So I said to my wife, we’ll take the restaurant out of Chinatown, and set up shop in New Jersey. Then people will come, knowing that the staff will speak English but the food will be authentic. We just need to get the word out, grow the business just a bit more. So you’ll come for dinner tomorrow, won’t you?” Reluctantly, I agreed that I would.

*******************

The next evening, I braced myself for the worst, having heard rumors of barbequed puppies and live jellyfish in re: Chinese food. The single dining room was painted a striking dark red, and the walls and ceilings were decorated with intricate brass motifs. There was a marble bar near the back, and the wall behind it cluttered with photographs of boxers, some of them autographed. The rug was another staggering jumble of patterns, its ruddy color adding to the dim atmosphere. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and I had to admit that it was quite charming despite is garishness.

Jimmy greeted us at the door. Behind him was a slip of a girl, her dark hair pinned back, and an apron over her satin dress. “Bertie! You’re just in time.” He gestured to the small girl, and she stepped forward. “This is my wife, Jiaying. Jiyang, this is my friend Bertie Wooster, and his man.”

She thrust her hand out as though she were initiating a chummy handshake, and I shook it, gently.

“Jolly nice to meet you, Jiaying.” I said.

“Jiaying.” She said.

“Yes, Jiaying.” I smiled.

She shook her head, and patted my elbow. “You call me Jane.” She instructed, and walked off to call for the head waiter in a language that sounded like an out of tune violin. Jimmy accosted the waiter and added to her instructions, and I stood rooted to the spot in shock. Hearing it from his mouth was a surreal experience, like witnessing a fellow possessed speaking in tongues.

“Didn’t I say ‘Jiaying’?” I asked Jeeves, confused.

“I believe that the difference lies in the inflection of the speaker’s voice.” He said. “Perhaps it is best to do as Mrs. Corrigan requests.” Just then, the head waiter escorted us to a table, and shortly thereafter began to bring course after course of food.

What food it was! We dined on clear, sour soups, duck roasted in orange sauce, fried noodles with bits of cabbage and egg, and dumplings containing various treats. By the time we were sipping the last of the tea, I was sighing contentedly, not regretting that I’d eaten more than my stomach was accustomed to. It was so different from Anatole’s cooking, yet every bit as delicious, and I envied that Jimmy had access to these delights on a daily basis. Jeeves promised to ask Jiaying some questions, so that he could attempt to replicate some of the courses that I had so enjoyed.

Once the table was cleared, Jimmy joined us for a snifter at the bar, and I immediately began to sing her praises. With this food, I said, there was no possible way his business could be anything short of a stellar success.

Jimmy sighed a bit, and refilled my glass. “It’s such a struggle, Bertie. Thank goodness for the fighters and the spectators, they keep us going.” He gestured to the photographs behind him. “It would be nice to add onto this place, though, make it someplace that families wouldn’t be opposed to dining in. Make it truly respectable, you know. I know that you can say that I made my own bed and must lie in it, but you’ve no idea how hard it is to fall in love with someone different, have a marriage that no one else really understands or even approves of.“

The words hit me in the gut, and I covered the expression that I was sure that my eyes were betraying with a deep swallow of whiskey. He’d just put into words exactly how I felt, myself. But… a marriage? I snuck a glance at Jeeves, who was listening intently, sympathetically, but with the gleam of intelligence in his eyes that made it clear that even now, the gears in that mighty head of his were turning. Of course I wanted to stay with him forever. Of course he was the most wonderful specimen of human being I had ever encountered. Of course he took care of me, humored me, even held me when anyone else would have left me to it. And of course he was handsome and graceful, so much so that I often watched him flit about working, just watching for the pure pleasure of it. So was it love, in the way that a marriage ideally consummates? My heart was beating just a bit harder, and my stomach twisted in worry as I realized that it was, indeed. I could clearly imagine kissing him and touching him in any way that he might ask, although the stigma of it all filled me with a chill fear of repercussions.

“-so Henry, he tells me that he’s got this kid, Vinnie Lombardo, up at the camp in White Plains. He’s the real deal, Bertie, Henry said that he ‘s never seen him go down first. A real big guy, you know. So tomorrow night, he’s fighting Mike O’Malley, the local hero. No one’s seen him yet down this way, so they have no idea of what he’s capable of. Everyone is sure to bet on O’Malley, because he’s a sure thing. If I place a bet on Lombardo, I could get enough money to add to the restaurant.”

“Ah, well, yes. Jolly good plan, I say.” I hastened to add my bit so that Jimmy wouldn’t know that I hadn’t been paying attention.

“So what I mean to say, is, well. Could you lend me eight hundred dollars to get in on this?”

Well, that got my attention. “Eight… hundred?” I asked, hoping that I hadn’t heard him right.

“Well, yes. Eight hundred. With the return I’ll get on the wager, I can build an extension on the place and get a bit more help when Jiaying is having the baby. I’d pay you back, or course, with interest.”

Well, what else was there to say? The Code of the Woosters is very strict in that I don’t pinch pennies when a pal of mine is in the soup; and certainly not when his wife was expecting a child. So, despite my better judgment, and a brief glare of disapproval from Jeeves, I produced my chequebook.

*******************

The next morning, Jeeves was there to wake me with the morning meal, and as I dug into the e. and b. with a song in my heart, he shattered the moment with some grim news. Laying the newspaper beside me on the bed, he drew in his breath, sharply. “Sir, I fear that there is a complication in your scheme to aid Mr. Corrigan.”

I frowned, picking up the paper and flipping through it, though I had no idea what it was that I was looking for. “A problem, Jeeves?”

“Yes, sir. It seems that Mr. Lombardo was arrested last night, in light of his activities as a member of a local gang. While he has not been convicted, the police will hold him for questioning. I do hope that he is able to attend the fight this evening.”

This did put a grim light on the situation, and I groaned, wishing that I had the strength to refuse requests for help on the spot after being stuffed with food and drink, and pressured with a story of neediness. “It seems this might be a bust for poor old Jimmy.” I sighed. “Not to mention a probable loss for us, as well. Well, there’s nothing that can be done for it.”

“I am sorry to hear that, sir.” He said, refilling my cup. He must have noted my long face, for he suddenly changed the topic. “I am given to understand that there are a number of cinemas in the area. Movie Palaces, they call them. Perhaps you would enjoy taking in a show today?”

This was just the medicine I needed to forget my troubles. “What a splendid idea.” I agreed. So that is how I came to spend an afternoon, and much of the evening watching reel after reel of films featuring dashing young men saving damsels in distress from the likes of mobsters, murderers, and social ruin.

*******************

The flat was quiet when I returned that evening, though I could hear Jeeves’ faint shuffle in the kitchen. I set down my hat and gloves, and strode to the sideboard to pour myself a drink when I saw it- a crisp pile of green bills bound in a paper band. I counted the bills, totaling one thousand dollars, and then counted them again.

Jeeves appeared then, pouring the drink for me. “I took the liberty of collecting the money from Mr. Corrigan this evening, sir. He said to thank you, sir, and to keep the extra money as the interest that he promised you.”

My head was spinning. “I don’t know how, Jeeves, but I’m certain that you had a hand in this miracle. Here.” I added, slipping the extra two hundred into the pocket of his waistcoat. The sudden move made Jeeves wince, and a small, sharp cry emitted from him before he could stop it. My heart froze as I realized that he was hurt, and the events that I had allowed to happen without my knowledge or presence became clear, filling me with a terrible guilt and appreciation for this man of mine.

“Jeeves.” I said, quietly. “Let me see.” He did not resist, but removed his jacket, tie, and waistcoat, pausing hesitantly for a moment before unbuttoning his shirt. I winced as I saw the bruise spreading out over his shoulder, and the bandage that had been bound around his middle to support his ribs.

“I must confess, sir, it looks far worse than it feels.” He said, his voice low and soothing. My fingers trailed lightly over the bandage, taking in the sight of his large, strong frame bare to the skin for the first time. I remembered his strength on other occasions, most notably when he’d laid out a constable with a kosh, and recalled how I’d stood in awe of his strength and prowess, in how I’d lived with him all this time and never quite knew what he was capable of. The feeling resurged now, awe mixed with a certain feeling of security, in knowing that no matter how many men he was capable of overpowering, he would use his abilities only to protect me.

“Let me get some balm on that.” I said, my finger hovering slightly above his bruise. He nodded, and I followed him to the bathroom, here he sat on the edge of the tub so that I could reach the bruises with ease. Lightly, I rubbed the cooling balm over his skin, and when that was done, I trailed my touch up to his shoulders and dug into the tense muscles there. It was thrilling to hear his faint, low moan as I undid the knots, feeling him relax under me. His eyes had slid shut in bliss, and I watched him through the mirror opposite us. Seeing him like this made me love him all the more, and, acting on impulse, I leaned down to place a chaste kiss against the nape of his neck.

His eyes opened in the mirror and met mine, wide and expressive for once in his life. He seemed to be asking me a question with them, and, steeling my nerves, I answered by tenderly kissing his shoulder, and then his neck, again, and again when there was no forthcoming protest. Jeeves twisted so that he was straddling the tub, and in one fluid movement, pulled me into his arms, and against his lips. I remained there, dazed as my lips parted for him, my world narrowed to the taste of his mouth and the feel of his tongue against mine, the feel of his arms around me, of his fingers stroking back my hair. In all of my life, I’d never been happier, or more certain of anything.

It was a long, silent moment in which we regarded each other afterwards, in which I smiled like an idiot and felt the side of his face and the sleekness of his hair, to be sure that he was actually real. He was smiling at me, too. He wanted me, loved me as surely as I loved him, and it was bally well intoxicating.

“We should get you some aspirin, and put you to bed.” I managed, softly, anticipation punctuating my words with a giddy hitch of breath.

“Very good, sir.” He replied. “We must not stay up all night, however. We have to get an early start tomorrow, before it is discovered that the true Mr. Lombardo is still in custody.”


End file.
